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People have the audacity to say they weren't fucking.

Mouth Full Of White Lies

From this prompt by @impishtubist . It's un beta'd, so don't be too critical. ao3

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Remus cannot do this.

He doesn't have the strength— the courage.

Sirius sits in the armchair front of him, slender fingers wrapped around a mug full of Irish coffee and pitch black hair pulled back into a messy bun, looking as comfortable and relaxed as if he was sitting on a cushioned throne. He stares out of the window, wearing a snug cream coloured jumper and one foot pulled up to the seat. Something twists in Remus' chest, but he cannot pull his eyes away from Sirius' face. He takes in the sharp angles and the arched eyebrows, the grey eyes and the relaxed line of his lips, the few flicks of his hair that fall over his forehead as he looks down into his mug when he takes a sip. Sirius looks anywhere but at Remus.

Remus doesn't know how to do this.

Without Harry around to act as a buffer, Remus feels the tension crawling up his spine slowly but surely, and it's worsened by the fact that he cannot tell if Sirius is feeling the same or not.

It has been eight days since Remus arrived at Grimmauld Place with Harry in tow, and in all that time, he has taken great care not to be caught alone in a room with Sirius.

Clearly, he went wrong somewhere, because here they were— alone together in the second floor parlour.

Remus swallows. Digs his fingers into the armrest of his chair.

"Padfoot—"

"Don't."

Sirius did not raise his voice. He did not say it in a hostile manner. He did not even look at Remus. That hurts more than Remus thinks it should.

"Sirius, I—"

"Don't, Lupin."

Remus flinches, feeling the words dig into his heart like he's been slapped. Sirius has not called him by his last name since the November of their first year at Hogwarts. After that, it was always Remus, Remi, Moony, Moons, Froot Lupes, any other nickname he could come up with. Not Lupin. Never Lupin.

"Padfoot, I'm sorry—"

"Lupin." Sirius finally looks at him. Remus flinches again, curling his shoulders into himself at the expression in his eyes. Or rather, the lack of expression. Sirius' face is blank, and his eyes are colder than a blizzard. He looks down his nose at Remus through lowered eyelids, the set of his eyebrows making it seem like he is utterly, completely indifferent to this conversation, like he does not give a single shit about what Remus has to say.

"I don't want to hear anything from you. If we must spend time together, we spend it in silence. Understood?"

Remus gives him a beseeching look, but Sirius doesn't waver in his decision, and Remus casts his gaze into his lap.

They sit in silence. Remus does not look back at Sirius, and Sirius relaxes into the soft padding of his armchair.

"I really am sorry, Sirius," Remus says quietly after a few seconds, fidgeting with his own fingers in his lap.

"I really don't care, Lupin."

Remus huffs and lifts his chin to stare at Sirius' impassive face. "It was wrong of me to leave you in Azkaban and I know it—"

"This," Sirius interrupts in a deceptively soft voice, "is not about my imprisonment."

Remus feels a chill travel down his spine. Still, he swallows down his urge to cut the discussion short. For once, he is not going to run away. For once, he will stay, and he will see this talk through.

"Then what is it about?"

Sirius looks at him like Remus hasn't an ounce of sense in his brain— the kind of disdainful and judgemental look he used to reserve for the students of Hogwarts who were not as smart as him or James. Remus feels the point of a dagger dig into his heart.

"Harry, Lupin," he says, and the icy frost that covers his tone makes the dagger pierce even deeper. "This is about my godson."

Remus grits his teeth, a sudden wave of annoyance rising up his throat. "I told you, Sirius, a werewolf is not capable of taking care of a child—"

"You could have visited him," Sirius cuts him off, and Remus hates how calm he looks, hates the way Sirius looks at him like he isn't worth his time. He hates the way his mind whispers in his ear about the school days when Sirius became eerily calm and composed, when he got that thunderstorm glint in his grey eyes that meant he was out for someone's cold blooded annihilation. "You could have checked up on him. You could have wrangled a deal out of the Hell-flower that made it impossible for her to harm my godson the way she did—"

"I HAD NO CHOICE!"

Remus is on his feet now, glaring at Sirius, who simply reclines back in his seat and still manages to look down his nose at Remus. The expression is so similar to the times in school when Sirius eviscerated someone with nothing but his whip-quick tongue that it makes Remus' blood boil. He hates the way Sirius is so.. so calm and collected. He wants Sirius to scream at him, yell at him, throw shit around and rage at him.

"Everyone always has a choice," Sirius answers coldly. "You had the time to make one— you had twelve years to make a choice. You didn't."

Remus breathes in, then breathes out, and the air that leaves him feels hot with anger. He glares at Sirius, clenching his fingers into fists and locking them down to his sides.

"You don't understand—" he grits out, but Sirius cuts him off again, the expression on his face growing colder with every word he utters. "Oh no, of course I don't. I have no idea what it's like to be a werewolf. That doesn't change the fact that you left Harry there. You left him there. James' child. The child we swore to protect—"

"I did no such thing."

The moment the words leave his lips, Remus knows he has fucked up.

Sirius shuts his mouth with a decisive click of his teeth, face going blank and unreadable. He stares at Remus, nothing showing through the mask he has snapped into place. Remus feels the dread trickle down his throat like freezing cold water, and he scrambles for words the longer the silence goes on, trying to find ways to fix this, to make it better, to get Sirius to understand.

"Sirius, I—"

"I suggest you stop speaking before I rip out your tongue and strangle you with it."

Remus snaps his jaw shut with an audible clack of his teeth at the flat tone of voice. Sirius is very much capable of carrying out that threat and both of them know it.

"Get out of my sight, Lupin."

Remus swallows down the seven replies his mind comes up with and twists on his heel, stiffly walking towards the door. When he is about to shut the door behind him, Sirius speaks again.

"You're not Moony to me. I am not Padfoot to you. You will refer to me as Black, I won't answer to any other name. And stay away from my godson."

Remus let's out a shaky breath. Nods. And steps out, pulling the door shut behind him.

Dumbledore: If you have a problem with how I'm handling Harry, you talk to me. The entire Order of the Phoenix: I have a problem- Dumbledore: I don't want to hear it!

harry potter’s godfather; they can never make me hate you

Picture watching Harry Potter and the order of the phoenix at 1 in the morning with Five but he’s already fallen asleep laying in between you because he’s tired all the time (and old) and the only source of light in the dark room is from the tv playing in the background…..

what more could you want in life?